


veni, vidi, vici

by Chash



Series: Charity Drive 2018 [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 22:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15543555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Clarke knows a few things about Madi's Latin teacher:1. His name is Mr. Blake.2. He's her favorite.3. He's managed to get everyone really invested in Latin and might be starting a cult.What she doesn't know until parents' night is that he'sBellamy.





	veni, vidi, vici

**Author's Note:**

> Charity fic for [pepperf](http://pepperf.tumblr.com/)! Based on [this post](http://coffeebuddha.tumblr.com/post/167609320541/kianahsaro-maverikloki).

Clarke doesn't actually read into it when Madi starts talking about Mr. Blake.

Admittedly, there's a little pause when she says he's her Latin teacher, but it's just a _little_ twinge. After all, Blake is a pretty common last name, and just because Bellamy liked classics in high school, there is absolutely no reason to think he's teaching high-school Latin now. Especially not teaching high-school Latin at Madi's school.

Honestly, what are the odds?

So Mr. Blake is just another character in Madi's life whom Clarke pictures as if he's a character in a book she's reading. She actually imagines him kind of like Albus Dumbledore, mostly because--and this is really the number-one thing Clarke knows about Mr. Blake--he seems to be teaching her daughter witchcraft.

Okay, obviously, that's not what's happening. But Mr. Blake is apparently very dedicated to the teaching of Latin and, more surprisingly, the _speaking_ of Latin. Not in a conversational way; he's not really expecting his students to be able to talk to each other.

"But reading Latin aloud is a skill," Madi explains. Latin is her favorite class, which Clarke feels is an accomplishment on Mr. Blake's part all by itself. Clarke took Latin in high school because that was what high-achieving kids who were planning to go to a good college did, but the Latin program at Madi's school seems to actually be kind of _cool_. Everyone takes Latin. "Mr. Blake is just getting us ready for competitions."

"Latin competitions," she says, dubious.

"Yeah! There's one coming up in a few weeks, I can't go because I've got soccer. But I want to start going after."

"To Latin competitions. So you can read Latin aloud and do your weird chants."

"They're not weird," Madi says, petulant.

Clarke has to smile. "Sorry, not weird. You just kind of sound like you're performing dark magic in your room. And the bathroom. And the living room."

"Didn't you take Latin in high school? You know I'm not saying anything _bad_."

"Everything sounds bad when you chant it in Latin," Clarke points out, but it's a fair point. All Madi really does is, one, read aloud scenes from her text book, which she makes Clarke assist her on, and, two, chant verb conjugations and noun declensions when she's studying. Unless saying _amo, amas, amat_ over and over is going to summon some kind of succubus, there's no real concern that Mr. Blake is raising some army of warlocks.

Well, not at Madi's level, anyway. Mr. Blake apparently teaches older kids too, so it could be that they don't get to demonic rituals until they're in AP.

All of which means that going into parents' night, Clarke's expectations for Mr. Blake, Latin teacher and possible cultmaster, are that he'll be basically Albus Dumbledore, and she'll tell him that he's Madi's favorite teacher and she's thrilled that Madi loves his class so much. If he seems chill, she might mention the cult thing, because it's kind of funny, but she doesn't really think it's going to be much of an interaction. Madi _likes_ Latin; Clarke's much more worried about talking to the science teacher that she hates.

It seems like a pretty easy interaction until she's on her way to room 108 and she hears, from down the hall, the sound of Bellamy Blake's voice. That's when her whole life crashes to a halt.

Bellamy was--a crush. An easy kind of crush, the cute, somewhat mysterious boy a year ahead of her at school, the one she knew because the school was on the small side and they had similar interests. She got to talk to him enough to find out that he was mysterious because his family wasn't very well off and he spent a lot of his free time either working or looking after his sister, which was the kind of revelation that made him more attractive. He had been a great first real crush, and she'd always been a little sad that she lost touch with him. He felt like the kind of guy who would be good to keep up with on social media, stalking pictures to see how he was doing and if he was still hot, but he deleted Facebook after he graduated college, and she never found him anywhere else.

Except, well, now she has. Here is Bellamy Blake, leading a high-school Latin cult. She probably should have seen it coming.

"Excuse me," someone says behind her, and Clarke startles, realizes she's blocking the hallway a little as she freaks out.

"Sorry," she tells the woman, flashing her a smile as she moves in closer to the lockers to let her get by. Clarke never feels like she fits in at these, being so much younger than most of the other parents, and now she feels even more out-of-place, a high-school kid herself again, an awkward teenager with a stupid crush.

There's nothing to be done, though; it's not like she can just _not_ talk to Bellamy. Even if he wasn't Madi's teacher, it would be weird to ignore him. They are old friends. It should be nice to see him.

His door is open, and the wall surrounding it is covered in doodles. Clarke remembers Madi showing her a couple tests with drawings at the bottom, explaining that Mr. Blake asked them to draw him cartoons if they finished up early. These must be his favorites, photo-copied and taped up, and Clarke is pretty sure she could spend a good hour studying all of them. It seems like there are a lot of weird in-jokes, people in togas doing all sorts of weird things and yelling taglines that probably make sense to Bellamy's students.

Dwelling now is tempting, but she makes herself go inside. There are a decent number of parents around, studying the various decorations, checking out whatever's set up on the desks, and then Bellamy himself, right in front of her as she walks in. He's facing away from her, leaning against his own desk as he chats with a small group of people, gesturing with one hand, like he always used to. She can't see his face yet, but the view of him from behind is eerie, familiar but not the same. His hair is still a tangle of dark curls, but his shoulders are broader, his shirt stretching across what looks like pretty firm muscle. She can see freckles on the back of his hand, and she can hear his voice, deeper and rougher, smiling as he explains how he somehow got the kids invested in toilet demons, as a phenomenon.

Bellamy Blake. Live and in person.

There's a small queue to see him, but Clarke doesn't know how to just join it. Once he sees her, the conversation is going to shift, and he's going to stop being a teacher meeting parents and start being a guy reconnecting with an old friend. Which is fine, but--it's going to be a different vibe, and she's not sure how best to approach him. She doesn't want to keep him from doing his job, even interacting with her is part of that job.

But the wall with projects from Madi's class on it is relatively deserted, so she dedicates herself to studying those, listening with one ear to the rise and fall of Bellamy's voice, waiting for there to be slightly less of a crowd. It's a little sad, and she definitely needs to either talk to him or leave soon, so she'll have time to talk to other people, but--

"Clarke?"

She turns and there he is, right behind her, this disbelieving smile on his face.

The years have been good to Bellamy Blake. As Clarke could already see, he's broader, more muscular, but it's not just that. He's wearing a pair of black-framed glasses and he's got a well-kept beard and, somehow, even _more_ freckles. His looks have grown with him, which doesn't always happen, and it's honestly kind of the worst thing.

It's been more than ten years since she last saw him, and she _still_ wants to drag him off to make out in a deserted classroom.

She manages a smile of her own. "Hey, Bellamy. I didn't want to interrupt."

"Holy shit," he says, wrapping her up in a hug. He smells the same, or similar enough, and it's been a while since she hugged someone like this, someone bigger than her, someone warm and solid and safe. "What are you doing here?"

She pulls back before she melts, but her smile is getting stronger by the second. "You're my daughter's favorite teacher."

He pauses. "I'm pretty sure my students are all old enough that you would have had to have the kid while we were actually in high school together." But he's always been quick; understanding dawns in his eyes. "Madi's a foster kid."

"Madi's a foster kid," she confirms. "My foster kid."

"Holy shit," he says again. He runs a hand through his already messy hair. "I had no idea."

"Neither did I. I just assumed there was some other guy with the last name Blake who wanted to get a bunch of kids into his Latin cult."

He laughs. "Yeah, there are tons of us. We've got a union."

He might have actually gotten _cuter_. It's so unfair. "This actually explains a lot."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"I couldn't figure out how anyone got ninth graders so excited about Latin, but you were always the best at motivational speeches. You could get people excited about watching paint dry."

"Thanks, I think. Latin is cool."

"Keep telling yourself." She bites her lip. "I actually didn't really have a lot to tell you, just that she loves your class and wants to get more involved in the Latin club once she's done with soccer."

"That would be awesome. She's a great kid, doing really well. I'd love for her to come to club events." He wets his lips. "I don't really have any notes for you either, I guess."

"You guess?"

He clears his throat. "There's a few things I'd call, uh--standard foster-kid stuff? She can be a little withdrawn sometimes, isn't always great with socializing, works better alone than in a group. It's nothing big, but I figure some people wouldn't be aware of it. But knowing you, I'm guessing you did about five years of research before you decided to start fostering."

He's not wrong. "So you were just going to bring it up if I seemed clueless."

"Like I said, she's doing well, I never thought her foster parents were shitty or anything. But I assume you're actually on top of stuff."

"I like to think so, but feedback is always appreciated."

"I'll keep that in mind." Another small group of parents comes in, and Bellamy glances over at them, clearly torn. "I, uh--I'd love to keep talking? But I should be--"

"Yeah, of course. I still have a few more rooms to visit." She bites the corner of her mouth. "You know, I live in your school district. It's not like we have to catch up at parents' night. I have a cell phone."

He grins. "Me too. What are the odds?"

They exchange numbers, and he gives her one more quick hug before she leaves. "Good to see you, Clarke."

"You too."

"I'm actually going to call you. Or, uh, probably text you. We're millennials."

She laughs. "Text would be good, yeah. You better."

Not shockingly, her concentration is pretty shot for the rest of the evening. She meets Madi's English teacher, who likes her, and her band teacher, who says she's a good student but not very musically gifted, neither of which is a surprise. The science teacher had been the wild card, and after a tense conversation, Clarke's strong suspicion is that Madi is right, and Mr. Wallace is a douchebag who has it out for her. He's certainly a douchebag, if nothing else. Whether it's personal or not doesn't really matter.

The event is winding down by the time she's escaped from Mr. Wallace, and her way out goes right past Bellamy's classroom. When she walks by, the other parents have left, and Bellamy's slumped at his desk, apparently completely worn out.

Raven won't mind keeping Madi for a little longer. She can be a little bit late.

"Rough night?"

Bellamy startles but recovers quickly, flashing her a smile as he straightens up. "No offense, but parents are exhausting."

"None taken. Can I ask you an awkward question?"

"Sure."

"Wow, not even hesitating?"

He grins. "If I say no, I don't find out what the awkward question is."

"Is Cage Wallace as much of a dick as he seems like?"

As she hoped, that gets his old familiar surprised laugh. "Yes, he definitely is. I didn't know Madi was in his class. My condolences."

"It's definitely her lowest grade and she said he was the problem, not her. I always feel like kind of a shitty parent, believing that, but--"

"Hey, you're a way shittier parent if you automatically trust all adults over your actual kid. Unfortunately, there are lots of bad teachers. And Cage is definitely one. A lot of my students complain about him."

"Any tips on how to deal with that?"

"It's a learning moment. I'd go over all her tests with her and back her up if there's anything wrong. It sounds like he loves knocking off a point or two for stupid shit, so--I don't know. I'd let her decide if she wants to fight it or let it go, but I usually tell students that he's got a bunch of pet peeves, and if you learn them, you'll do better in his class." He shrugs. "It's up to you, but I think if you validate her and tell her he's a dick but there's no good way to get him fired, she might come around on doing things his way to get the grade."

"Maybe," Clarke says. "She can be--stubborn."

"Your kid? Stubborn?"

She grins. "She was like that when I found her."

"Look at it this way: nothing's going to make Cage more pissed than having to give Madi good grades, so the best thing she can do piss him off is figure out how to do well in his class."

"Wow. You're pretty good at this."

"Between my sister and five years of teaching, I have a lot of experience convincing kids to excel out of spite." He checks his watch and then stands, stretches, loosens his tie. "Okay, I'm officially done. Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, I should pick Madi up, my friend Raven is watching her."

"Is it just you?" he asks.

"Just me?"

"No partner? I don't see a ton of single foster parents."

"Oh, yeah. Currently single. I just--I read an article about how many older kids were in the system, it sounded like something I could help with, and I just--did it."

He nods. "That's awesome. Can I walk you out?"

The careful formality makes her smile. "Yeah."

He shrugs on a coat and checks the room quickly before gesturing her out. There are still some other parents around, filing out, and it's strange for Clarke to realize that she probably looks more like a teacher than a parent, one of Bellamy's coworkers leaving with him for the night.

"So, how long have you been fostering Madi?"

"Two years. I'm working on adopting her now, there were complications with an aunt she doesn't like who wanted custody, but she was finally deemed unfit, so I'm hoping that's going to go through soon. How's your sister?"

He huffs. "Same as ever. It's--tough, honestly."

"I remember you guys having trouble."

He holds the door to the parking lot open for her. "Yeah. It's a little better these days. I spent a few years feeling like--she didn't go to college, she doesn't have a steady job, she never stays in one place that long. And I used to think that meant I fucked up, but--that's just how she is. She's happy like this."

"Sorry, I didn't think that would be a downer."

"It's fine. Like I said, she's happy, doing well. We talk about once a week, mostly because I want to, but she's willing."

The question feels a little too obvious, but she still can't help asking, "Partner?"

"No, single right now. Did you, uh--you were thinking you were bi in high school? Is that where you ended up?"

"Yeah."

"Cool, me too." He pauses. "Now is where I'd ask you out, if you weren't Madi's mom."

"You can still ask me out," she says, trying not to let her smile take over her face. "But I have to ask Madi before I can say yes. Dating in general is okay, but since she knows you--"

"I am her favorite, right?"

"You are." She jerks her head toward her car. "That's me."

"Okay. Uh--it was really good to see you. And if you ever want to get dinner, you should let me know."

"I will. And you should text me anyway."

"Yeah?"

"I don't _just_ want to make out with you, I think I still like you as a person."

He ducks his head, laughing. "You _think_?"

"It's only been a night. Mostly I know you're still hot and fun to hang out with. And you're probably starting a Latin cult."

"Yeah, those are the three big things." He pauses, lingering like he doesn't want to go yet. "So, uh--we're definitely going to talk."

She leans up to press her lips against his cheek, quick. "We definitely are. Goodnight, Bellamy."

It feels like he hasn't stopped smiling since he first saw her; that's pretty cool. "Goodnight."

*

"Is she seriously chanting this early," Bellamy grumbles. It's not even a question, just pure resignation.

"I tried to warn you, you started a cult."

He rolls over, giving Clarke a nice view of his bare back as he grabs and checks his phone. It's his first time sleeping over, and she felt a little guilty about it, like she was doing something wrong, but Madi seems good. 

Bellamy is her favorite, after all.

"It's not the chanting, it's the earliness. In my cult, we don't chant Latin in the bathroom before nine a.m. on weekends. Isn't she a teenager? Shouldn't she still be asleep?"

"She's an early riser. And she's nervous about the competition next week. Which is also your fault."

"No wonder she's my best student." He rolls back over, wrapping Clarke up in his arms, giving her jaw a nuzzle. Without question, it's the best wakeup call she's had in years. "Seriously," he murmurs, voice low, "does she do this every weekend? I didn't know I was so powerful."

"She does. Better get used to it."

He grins. "Yeah, I guess I better."


End file.
